


Season 13 Episode 1 - Dear God

by MuffinOfTheDarkSide



Category: Supernatural
Genre: SPOILERS TO SEASON FINALE, as much as it can be in this show, based on some theories, cheer up after season finale, directly after 12x23, happy end, it might be pathetic but I needed it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinOfTheDarkSide/pseuds/MuffinOfTheDarkSide
Summary: Since I refuse to accept the end of season 12, I put a few theories together and wrote this short fic. It’s a little something for everyone who needs to cheer up a little and want to believe everything is going to be alright (as much as it can be in this show), and especially for my beloved WeirdoDutchmanCallypsowho so-kindly didn’t get me locked in a mental asylum this morning when I put Crowley and Lucifer in the lyrics of a jolly folk song about a shepherd running away from gendarmes. Yeah but besides this I’m sane, I promise :) Enjoy.





	Season 13 Episode 1 - Dear God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DutchmanCallypso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DutchmanCallypso/gifts).



“Cas…” Dean whispered again. But the man lying in front of him didn’t respond.

“Cas, no, please… please, don’t be dead,” Dean wailed. How foolish, begging a dead man to be alive. He never understood this manner he saw in the movies. But now he was there, holding dead man’s hand and wishing it wasn’t true. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them.

“Dean, we have to go.” Sam’s low voice made him flinch.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Dean… he’s dead. And the Nephilim is inside. We have to go. There’s nothing you can do,” Sam all but whispered. He kneeled next to Dean and pulled his hand away from Cas’s softly. Dean sobbed.

“Dean…” Sam exhaled shakily.

“It’s not fair,” Dean grunted, voice trembling.

“I know.”

They burned the body. Dean couldn’t watch it, but it needed to be done. The last thing they wanted to see was some black-eyed son of a bitch wearing Cas. Then they got into the Impala. The silence was almost unbearable.

“So what now?” Dean asked in a dull voice when the engine started purring. He let Sam drive. He didn’t feel able to drive now. To live now.

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “We have to do something about Lucifer’s son. And we have to do it quickly. We’ll get to the Bunker and figure something out.”

“Yeah. Like we always do,” Dean scoffed.

“Hey, stop here!” he blurted after a couple minutes of ride through empty country. There was nothing but fields for miles, but Dean noticed something.

“What? Why?” Sam frowned. They were approaching a small wooden church.

“Just stop!” Dean commanded and as soon as Sam pulled over and the car stopped, he stormed out and headed straight inside of the ramshackle building. It was mostly made of wood, with holes in the high ceiling. He sat down on an old rickety wooden bench and sighed heavily. This was his last hope. Sam didn’t sit down, he stood beside Dean, far from optimistic. He didn’t believe anyone could help them now.

“God? Are you there?” Dean asked quietly in a hoarse voice. “It’s me, Dean Winchester. We need you, please, Chuck, wherever you are,” his voice broke and he looked through one hole in the roof. “Please.”

“Dean, we don’t have time for this,” Sam whispered. “God is gone.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean growled. And Sam did. Dean exhaled shakily and then there was dead silence for a few moments.

“Please,” Dean repeated.

“Dean,” a familiar voice came from behind him. Both brothers turned around. Dean jumped off the bench like it was on fire and ran up to the man dressed in muddy, tattered clothes, clenching his arms around him and making him gasp.

“Cas!” he cried, “h-how? How are you alive? And we burned your vessel!”

“Dean.. uchrm.. Dean.. I can’t breathe.”

Dean eased the hug immediately and Castiel inhaled sharply.

“Dean… in the alternate universe, I… I met myself. And… it’s a long story, Dean. We don’t have time now. We swapped our clothes and he agreed to sacrifice himself,” Castiel sighed.

“Yeah that sounds so much like you,” Dean scoffed. “Man I’m so glad you’re here,” he muttered and pulled him into another hug.

“Haven’t you noticed he was different than me?” Castiel asked with a bit of disappointment in his voice.

“Well… yeah, I think so. I don’t know, everything happened so fast. Cas, what can we do about that Nephilim?”

“I don’t know. But we will figure something out,” Castiel said firmly.

“Echrm, echrm,” a sound of someone clearing his throat came from not far away on their right. All three of them turned their heads towards the sound.

“Hello boys.”

Dean stormed up to the demon and punched him in the jaw.

“And how are _you_ alive you son of a bitch?!”

“Do you always need to punch me just to make sure I’m alive?” Crowley scolded him and rubbed the place where Dean punched him.

“Our mom is trapped with Lucifer now because of you!” Dean shouted.

“Yes, yes, that wasn’t planned, my apologies. But the good thing is – Lucifer is trapped and away from his precious son. Do you two morons have any idea what could have happened if he laid a finger on that child?!” Crowley raised his voice. “We would all be dead that moment. So, I believe the term you’re looking for is thank you. And you’re welcome, by the way. Now imagine you were alone in this. No me, no Feathers over there, just you. Against a bloody Nephilim! And I also really, really didn’t want to kill myself. The truth is – I had a bit of help.”

“Help? What help, Rowena is dead,” Dean frowned. Crowley smirked.

“I got in the way of someone more powerful than my mother.”

“So I was thinking,” another voice and a short man appeared, “I haven’t been on Earth for some time, how about a little party with my favorite hunters? But nah, that would be too easy, right?” he smirked as he was walking around the small group watching their mostly surprised faces, clearly enjoying his entrance.

“Gabriel?!” Sam and Dean yelped at the same time. Castiel was just staring.

“So I landed in the Bunker and what do I find? No party, just the King of Hell pinned to the table, not even a damn chocolate bar waiting for me! Seriously boys, this is how you treat your guests?” he said in a pretended disappointed voice. Then Castiel finally unfroze and hugged the archangel.

“You’re alive,” he exhaled in relief.

“Of course I am, dummy,” Gabriel whispered softly so only Castiel would hear.

“But… but how?” Dean asked, still in shock, when Castiel broke the hug. Gabriel gave him a playful smirk and wiggled his eyebrows, his face saying _‘because I am the Trickster, dummy’_. Then he clapped his hands.

“So I figured, when I help you save the world, we can have a party. How about we get started?”


End file.
